I know, I'd say not to bother, but you've got this far so you may as well continue. It won't take long. The most exciting thing to happen to me today was that I finally sorted out our tupperware cupboard. I don't want to rub it in too much, I realise it must be galling if you've spent all day at work being important and speaking to other vaguely interesting and important adults to get home and find out that I have been having so much fun stuck in the house. The good news is that due to all my 'fun' you can now open the cupboard door and plastic clutter no longer rains down on your head. So pleased was I by my achievement, I took a picture of it on my phone and was about to email it to K when I had a sudden moment of clarity and realised that outside of this house, it might not be as exciting as I thought and could actually be seen as a pretty pathetic act from a bored housewife, so I deleted it.
Mercifully the weekend was rather more interesting. Saturday started early as Bea and I left at 7.30 for our girly weekend. We've never split up the sexes like this before but it was incredibly successful. K had a fabulous time with the boys and Bea and I revelled in our girlyness. (I was slightly less happy about the three hours or so I spent listening to Justin Beiber but at least she didn't moan at me singing along loudly). Bea spent Saturday enjoying the girl-tastic beauty-fest that was her cousin's 10th Birthday 'Beauty' party and I had a great time sans children. After I collected my fully made up, hair plaited and nails painted girl, we drove on to the magnificent Southwold on the Suffolk coast to stay the night with my sister and her family on the first night of their holiday. Sunday was spent chilling on the beach and shopping for things we didn't need, which are two of my favourite activities in the world. We even went for a swim in the North Sea. Bea, like me, is a huge fan of the sea - I'm not sure she has much of a clue that there are other seas in the world which are clear, blue and warm so for now she's very content with the brown and freezing North Sea. She might be slightly less keen now that we almost drowned, but hopefully she'll get over that quickly. Towards the end of our sea dip, I suddenly found myself unable to stand, just as a big wave crashed down on us and as Bea panicked, her grip around my neck tightened considerably so that I also found myself terribly concerned for our welfare. As you now know, we did survive, although Bea was upset for a while afterwards and as I carried her out of the sea my sister ran towards us to tell me that my boob was hanging out. Hey ho. A small price to pay for survival.
I am flashing the flesh a little too often for my liking at the moment. George seems to have no clue that I might not want people to see my knickers and every now and then likes to lift my skirt up, totally without warning. Outwardly, the weight loss has brought about a rather pleasing effect but underneath it is a total car crash. My stomach has not coped well with the pregnancies and subsequent weight loss and really it needs permanent structured support to look even vaguely acceptable. Anyone but K seeing it makes me feel quite ill. (I suppose it was lucky I was wearing a one piece and not a bikini on the beach so that it wasn't my boob as well as my stomach hanging out.) I do worry about the lack of elasticity my skin now possesses. If I were able to go back in time and show my 18 yr old self what became of her beautiful unadulterated skin she would collapse with shock and probably ask why my hair was so frizzy. I am going to start scouring the internet for miracle creams that might once again make my skin soft and taught.
Oh God even Lewis is a bloody repeat. SOD. I was really looking forward to it as the highlight of my Wednesday. That's my night ruined. I will just have to go and make a bloody Frittata for International Week at the school. WHY oh WHY did I say I would? I was feeling quite guilty about my lack of cake baking which I should never have confessed to in the last post. I must remember that the head of the school's parents group is the mother of the 'extra' child I care for and a regular reader. I am my own worst enemy. Talking of which, after a brief euphoria on Friday when my weight finally started with another new number, all hope has been lost after I stupidly stepped on the scales at the meeting I worked at on Monday night and almost burst in to tears on the spot. It appears that the cake and ice cream I happily hoovered up over the sunny weekend had an almost instant affect on the scales. Desperately unfair. I have spent the last two days feeling whale-like. I am more and more and more over trying to lose this last half stone.
Ooooh I can't believe it, I've just remembered that the day did in fact contain some excitement. As the children sat eating their 'besghetti bomonaise' I opened the fridge and realised we DID in fact have butter which I had spent the day assuming we did NOT. As I squealed with joy at my discovery, Bea asked me what was so exciting. I told her and without looking up she said, 'Mum, that is definitely not exciting'. I fear I may be desperately in need of the summer holidays. I certainly need to get out of the house more. Maybe I should go to the International Evening at the school tomorrow and sample my own frittata. Although then I would have to converse with other adults who would be more polite than my six year old daughter and just nod along whilst secretly wondering how anyone could be so terribly dull. It would be too embarrassing. I'll just stay here in safety and watch another repeat.
I'm off to peel potatoes and crack eggs. Whatever is to become of me.